


Necessity, Not Hope

by TheDarknessFactor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Friendship, Gen, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Rebels-Era, Rise of the Empire Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5547107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessFactor/pseuds/TheDarknessFactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She suddenly found herself wishing that she hadn’t left the cantina; this was not an occasion she would have chosen to break into her alcohol stash, but she poured some for herself and Tano anyway.</p>
<p>“To the end of the galaxy,” she said.</p>
<p>Tano looked like she was about to drop the glass, but she gave a shaky laugh anyway.  “That’s what it feels like.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessity, Not Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This was a birthday present that I wrote for my dear from harasmint on Tumblr. It... pretty much ignores Dark Disciple completely.
> 
> Hope you guys like it!

Nar Shaddaa was a hole of shavit, but for Asajj it had become her (reluctantly) preferred hideaway over the years.  She watched as the clones mowed down Jedi from her shadowy corner of a cantina, downing more shots than were usually necessary.

They were necessary tonight.  The screaming wouldn’t leave her head.

Jedi dying, left and right.  Shoot one down, then another, so much _pain_ …

There was a time when she would have relished this.  Now she just wanted to put her hands over her ears and scream.

The cantina had grown eerily silent when the Holonet started to broadcast the slaughter - like even these lowlifes knew that the galaxy was kriffed if the Jedi were wiped out.  Asajj winced at the scraping noise her chair made on the floor, glaring at the eyes that swiveled to face her until their attention went back to the holovid.  She slipped out the door without anyone giving her trouble; the regulars knew to give her space, and any newbies who might have bothered her on any other day were captivated by the news.

Being out on the streets wasn’t much better; people in Nar Shaddaa either liked to party too much or they kept to themselves, but it seemed that today everyone had switched to the latter.  Asajj’s movement was mostly mechanical, her feet taking her back to her apartment by habit more than anything else.  She had a baseless fear of seeing clone troopers around every corner.  

This was wrong.  Certainly, the deaths of so many Jedi should have affected her, but not to this extent.  

_Liability!_  her survival instincts screamed.

The pressure in her mind only worsened as she arrived at her apartment.  With some effort, Asajj closed off those thoughts and focused on the here-and-now.

The here-and-now told her that there was an intruder, but not a threat.

That didn’t stop her from climbing in through her window, lightsaber in hand.  The streetlight that hovered over her window revealed a small figure sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, trying and clearly failing to meditate.

“Tano,” she snarled, clipping her lightsaber to her belt.  “What in Sith’s name are you doing here?”

Ahsoka Tano had the opposite reaction; where Asajj had just disarmed herself, Tano rolled backwards into a crouch, her own lightsaber at the ready.  Asajj instinctively raised her hands, trying to go for non-threatening, but that had never really worked for her.

This was not a situation she’d ever expected to be in.  The opposite seemed more likely.  

Tano’s chest heaved and her pupils were dilated, but eventually she seemed to recognize Asajj; she stowed her lightsaber away and stood on shaky legs.  Her eyes were wild and her shoulders were hunched, but she still managed a smile.

“Nice to see you too,” she quipped.

Asajj snorted.  Sarcasm was supposed to be _her_ department.

“You’re projecting,” she said flatly, “And it hurts.  Cut it out.”

“Can’t.”

“So much for ‘discipline’,” she muttered.  She did not need a catatonic Jedi crashing in her apartment.  A surge of panic went through her.  “Are the clones hunting you?  Do they know where you are?”

Tano gave her a dull look, still only half-seeing her.  “No.”

It wasn’t much of a relief.

Asajj finally broke eye contact with Tano, surveying the apartment.  Her eyes went to the door panel, frowning when she noticed that sound-shielding had been activated.  

Tano’s eyes followed hers.  

“I was screaming earlier,” she explained.  “Now it’s more like I’m half-numb to it.  It’s a bit better.”

That sounded worse to Asajj, but she said nothing on the matter.  She marched over to the door panel, turning on the lights and ignoring Tano’s wince.  She suddenly found herself wishing that she hadn’t left the cantina; this was not an occasion she would have chosen to break into her alcohol stash, but she poured some for herself and Tano anyway.

“To the end of the galaxy,” she said.

Tano looked like she was about to drop the glass, but she gave a shaky laugh anyway.  “That’s what it feels like.”

Asajj downed her drink in a few gulps, only a little bit buzzed from her earlier shots.  It did nothing to alleviate the headache that was Tano’s doing, so she poured herself another glass.  To Tano’s credit, she didn’t even grimace when she drank her share, but her gaze became even more unfocused.

“Will you be able to sleep?” Asajj asked.  “I’m not mothering you for the rest of the night.”

“When did you become all bark and no bite?” Tano said.  

“Just for that, I’ll throw you out the window.”

“No, you won’t.”

Asajj glared at her.  It would be easy - just a quick gesture and tapping into the Force, and Tano would be out of her life once again.  She clenched her fists and ignored the smug look that Tano sent her way when she ended up doing nothing.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Tano’s gaze shifted into something pained and unseeing again.  “I followed the Force.  It led me here.  I knew it was you.  I didn’t think that my pain would affect you so strongly; I’m sorry for that.”

“I don’t need your pity, Jedi,” spat Asajj, slightly unnerved.  They were usually more adversarial than this.  This… truce, or whatever it was, was too strange for her liking.

Tano remained silent for a few moments.  Then: “I’m not a Jedi.”

Asajj gave a disbelieving snort, but then she got a good look at Tano and noticed the haunted, desperate look in her eyes.  It was a look that was familiar to Asajj, and one that she had become accustomed to hiding.  Her curiosity piqued; after that night on Coruscant a few years ago, she’d heard that Tano had been pardoned, but she knew nothing of what happened later.

“Fine,” she muttered.  “Try to sleep, Tano.  You won’t be of any use to anyone if you sit shivering in the dark for hours.”

“I’ll do my best, _Ventress_ ,” Tano replied.  “Same to you.”

Tano seemed content to stay in her spot on the floor, so Asajj lay down on her bed and draped her arm over her eyes, doing her best to shut out the phantom pain she could feel.

It wasn’t any surprise to her when neither of them slept a wink.

* * *

Tano, as it turned out, had been doing business as a smuggler - and gathering intel on the side.  She wasn’t half bad at it either, if the information network she had crafted in Outer Rim was any indication.  She invited Asajj with her when she went back to her ship.  Asajj - against her better judgment - accepted, wondering what kind of life the annoying former Padawan had scraped together.

“She wasn’t working when I first found her,” Tano said.  “I picked up a few things from Anakin, and I managed to scrape something together, so she at least flies.  I usually end up tweaking the engine when I get bored.”

“I say throw it back in the junk heap.”

Tano waved her hand around Nar Shaddaa.  “If you know somewhere I can get a higher quality ship for a low price around here, be my guest.”

“ _Stealing_ one isn’t that hard,” sneered Asajj.  “Oh wait, we wouldn’t want to wound your precious little moral code.  Silly me.”

“I prefer ‘borrowing’,” Tano admitted.  Asajj stared at her, unable to hide her surprise.  “What?  You try hiding in the Coruscant underworld - and, frankly, fighting a war - without stealing something at some point.”  She waved a hand.  “Anyway, not the point.  I asked you to come along because I have an offer for you.”

“Not interested,” Asajj replied immediately.  She had no desire to be a part of Tano’s life.  Even if she clearly wasn’t a child anymore.  “The last time I teamed up with a Jedi didn’t end well.”

“And all the times before that?”

Asajj thought of Kenobi, and Maul, and conceded the point.  Plus, there was the fact that Tano wasn’t  _technically_ a Jedi.

That still wasn’t enough to sway her.  “I get enough business on my own,” she said.  “I don’t need you.”

She expected Tano to argue, to insist that Asajj would benefit from the two of them working together, but instead Tano shrugged.  She was thrown off balance by the lack of acidic arguing, but she took what she got and made to leave the hangar.

It was for the best, anyway.  It was better that she stayed out of Tano’s life; it couldn’t end well for either of them.

* * *

The holovid logs started arriving while she was travelling to Alderaan.  Some indebted idiot was trying to hide in the Lurman colony there.  Asajj had been dozing in the pilot’s chair of her ship, her neck at an awkward angle, when the comm beeped.  When she opened the channel, she found that the message contained a recording.

“What is this?” she mumbled, too disoriented to care.

She pressed the button to play it back, and snapped awake when the screen came into focus.  

“This is Fulcrum.”  Tano’s voice and face were clear, but she already looked as though she’d aged ten years since Asajj had last seen her (it had only been two).  “This is… marking the day that the Jedi were slaughtered in the name of Emperor Palpatine.  May the Force forsake that Sithspawn.”

Asajj stared.  What was this all about?  Her hand hovered over the pause button, but didn’t push it.

“I don’t remember all of that day,” Tano admitted.  “Just that it was probably one of the most painful days of my life.  When I left the order I felt alone, but not that alone.  I’m lucky that I found Ventress, and I never thought I’d say _that_.  She might have saved my life.”

The holorecording froze here, and a message popped up instead.

_‘You saved her once.  Will you save her again?’  
_

Asajj snarled wordlessly, slamming her hand down and deleting the message.  “No,” she hissed.

But the messages kept coming, each with a recording of Tano that revealed far, far too much about her to Asajj.  More than she had ever wanted to know.  It was a violation for her to be watching this - and she might not have cared for Tano, but she still had a speck of her tarnished honor left.  She tried not to watch the holovids, but she had to go through them to get to the message.

Finally, on the eleventh day of her lightspeed jump, the only thing in the message was a set of coordinates.

“Fine!” she snapped at the comm.  “Fine.  I’m going.”

* * *

The coordinates took her to Mandalore’s moon - specifically, an abandoned mining facility.  Asajj landed her ship in the forest nearby, wary of attackers, and didn’t let go of her lightsaber while she trekked through the woods.  It was silent apart from the occasional call of wildlife; she still knew how to use the Force to cover up noise.

A conspicuous crack made her leap up into the branches of a tree, crouching low and trying to make out the source of the noise.  Two life-forms in Mandalorian armor emerged, clearly expecting her.

“There’s no time for this,” one argued.  “She’s not coming.”

“Something was on the scanner,” the other replied.  “It has to be her.”

Unable to resist, Asajj called, “Correct, boys.”

They barely had time to look up before she was on them, bludgeoning one in the head hard enough that he went spinning, and shoving the other against a tree, her active lightsaber at his throat.  

“I’m curious as to who the organizer of your little plan is,” Asajj said.  The other Mandalorian was struggling to stand; all it took was a mild Force suggestion to knock him out cold.  “Because it’s obviously not either of you.”

She had to give this one credit, though - he was brave.  “As if we’d tell you,” he said.

“Hmm.  Too bad.”

She moved easily (too easily), stepping back and lifting her hand, curling it like a claw.  The man grasped at his throat as she exerted more pressure on his windpipe, lifting him up into the air almost effortlessly.  This sort of intimidation wasn’t new to her, but there was none of the usual rush of sadistic joy.

Asajj scowled, letting him go.  She tried to avoid using the Force for a reason.

The Mandalorian laughed.  “Is that all you’ve-”

Asajj threw him into a tree.  He crumpled and didn’t move.

“To answer your question,” she drawled, “…no.”

She wasn’t as good at tracking in the wild as she was at tracking in the middle of a city, but she made do and traced the two back to their base.  To her surprise, it wasn’t inside the mining facility, but instead hidden at the bottom of a neighboring canyon.  She could make out Mandalorians moving around through the twisted rock formations.  Their stealth would have been impressive to a non-Force sensitive, but to Asajj it just looked pathetic.

Tano wasn’t difficult to locate, either; she was being held in a small cave off to the side.  She looked surprisingly composed for a captive, sitting with a serene smile on her face.  She appeared to be talking to one of the Mandalorians.  A woman, who looked more and more annoyed by the minute.

Asajj flitted through the rock formations like a shadow, until she was close enough to listen in.

“…don’t stand for my sister.  I never have.  At any rate, it’s too dangerous to do now.”

“Then surely you must realize that what you want to do is even more dangerous,” Tano answered.  

The woman gave an ugly laugh.  “What do you think we Mandalorians do when we realize that we can’t win?”

“You _could_ ,” Tano said.  “If you would just be patient.”

“Spoken like a true Jedi.”

“I’m no Jedi.”  Asajj couldn’t stop the shiver that crawled up her spine - Tano’s voice had never been that cold, not in all the time that she’d known her.  Not even when they were mortal enemies.

“Right, and I’m no Mandalorian,” the woman continued.  “Look, I think you genuinely mean well.  But if you won’t help us, maybe your friend will.”

Tano laughed.  “She’s even less likely to do so.  Like it or not, Bo-Katan, your best chance is with me.”

“You, who never even became a real Jedi, and Organa’s insane idealism?  As if.”

Tano didn’t even blink.  “Bail and I are just good friends.  I don’t know what you’re implying.”

Bo-Katan rolled her eyes.  “Look, if _I_ noticed, then the empire definitely noticed.”

Tano outright grinned, and Asajj recognized a trap when she saw one.  “But what kind of power do we have if they don’t acknowledge us?”

Bo-Katan was silent for a moment.  Finally, she said, “You’ve got two more days, Jedi.  Then I give you to the empire, and hopefully gain their trust.”

She stalked away from Tano, shoving her helmet back onto her head and turning her head in such a way that Asajj held her breath, hoping she wasn’t spotted.  She slid into the cave, using the Force to impress upon the guards that no one was there.  Tano didn’t look surprised to see her in the least.

“No grand entrance?” she quipped at Asajj.  “No dramatic threats?”

“Do you _want_ me to leave you here?”

“No thanks.”

“Then do the galaxy a favor, and shut up.”

Their escape was delayed, because of course Tano had to go find her lightsaber, which led to the two of them fighting back-to-back to get out of the Mandalorian camp, deflecting blaster bolts and avoiding flamethrowers.  They kept bumping into each other and Asajj had to yell at Tano more than once to stay out of her way, but they made it out in one piece (both a little bit singed) and back to Asajj’s ship without incident.

After they make it to hyperspace, Asajj swivels in a chair to glare at her.

“Don’t worry,” Tano said, and there was a bitter understanding there that Asajj didn’t like.  “I’ll get out of our hair - I just realized that you actually have some - as soon as possible.  And thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” grumbled Asajj.  “Please.”

They made it all the way to Corellia - the planet was busy enough that they wouldn’t be noticed - before the idea that had been growing in the back of Asajj’s mind finally took hold.  

“Look,” she said to Tano, sighing.  “I don’t like you, you don’t like me, and obviously today wasn’t the smoothest day.  But we made a decent team, and with the empire’s laws, jobs are getting more difficult.  I could use a partner.  Your skills would help with the business.”

Tano eyed her curiously.  “And the business is…?”

“Bounties.”

“You’re not afraid that it’ll hurt my precious moral code?”

“Your conversation with Bo-Katan taught me everything I need to know about your ‘moral code’,” Asajj retorted.

The smallest of smiles appeared on Tano’s face.  “Yeah, okay.”  She stuck out a hand.  “I’m in.”

* * *

It wasn’t easy.  Nothing ever was, but the universe seemed to make working with Ahsoka Tano especially difficult.  They argued near-constantly, their personalities clashed, and there were frequent times when they split up to do different jobs - but somehow, they always ended up congregating back on Nar Shaddaa, where it all ended (started?).  Those were moments of quiet understanding between the two of them, and though they were few and far between, they were always enough to make them take up their partnership again.

They were, admittedly, using each other in the beginning.  Ahsoka went along with Asajj’s plans for the most part, but she was still cultivating her intel network and keeping in contact with Bail Organa on the side.  Asajj was just happy to be able to take on tougher jobs, now that there were two of them.

Slowly, as three years passed, it became… less difficult.  They saved up enough for a bigger ship, so that they could go and steam in their own spaces when their disagreements became too much.  Asajj began to notice small subtleties in Ahsoka’s personality - the fact that she emulated Kenobi when she was strategizing, how her vicious fighting style had remnants of her master.  

She put together more pieces about the former Padawan, learning that she chose to leave the Order.  It explained her issue with being called a Jedi, but there were moments when Asajj was able to see echoes of them in Ahsoka.  They were the moments when her serenity tended more towards cold, and when her logic dictated that she be merciless. 

Ahsoka still carried a part of their legacy, whether she liked it or not, but Asajj would turn back to the dark side before she told her that.

There were certain things that they would never reveal, not even to one another.  Asajj flat-out refused to share her reasons for her aversion to the Force (which had only grown stronger), and Ahsoka never spoke about the time in between their first meeting on Nar Shaddaa and their reunion in the Mandalore system.

Asajj could figure that one out on her own, though.  Months in solitude, without even a droid for company, still in agony over something that she couldn’t stop herself from feeling - it had to be hell.  Asajj was used to being alone.  Ahsoka, at that point, was still adjusting.

“Course set,” Ahsoka said, coming up from behind her.  “Something on your mind?”

“No,” Asajj said shortly, ignoring Ahsoka’s frown.  “Making the jump to hyperspace.”

There were worse lives she could’ve been leading.

* * *

They’d had spats before, but none had ever had this sense of finality to them.

The argument they’d had in the cockpit didn’t even make Asajj angry, really (she was slipping up) - just exhausted beyond belief.  Ahsoka had worn the same weary look on her face, and wore it now while she watched Asajj descend the boarding ramp.

“Asajj,” she called, and this time there was no mistaking the pain in her voice.  “Please.”

Asajj stopped, but she didn’t turn around.  It was like turning around would only make this harder.

“I have no desire to die,” she said coldly.  Her instincts told her to leave it at that, but instead she added, “And I have even less of a desire to watch you fulfill your deathwish.  Goodbye, Ahsoka.”

She started walking again.  This time, Ahsoka didn’t call to her.

* * *

The galaxy was a strange place, though.  Things never really happened the way that Asajj intended them to.

* * *

She dropped out of hyperspace into chaos - starfighter debris everywhere.  She had to swerve to avoid a particularly large piece, swearing profusely before she finally spotted the cruiser she was looking for.  It was unmarked, and therefore suspicious, but she felt a surge of triumph at the sight of it.

_“Shuttle, you are not permitted to enter this sector.  What is your purpose here?”_

Asajj laughed derisively into the comm.  “Sorry, boys, but if you think that that’s how the empire addresses intruders, you need to do more research.”

There was a pause, then:  _“Who are you?  What do you want?”_

“I want to board,” Asajj replied.  “I have information.  I think you’d be interested to hear it.  I don’t think you’re in much of a position to argue, unless you’d like to blow my ship up and be done with it.”

There was another long pause, during which Asajj powered down most of her systems.  Her hand went to the blaster on her belt instinctively before she forced herself to return it to its side.

_“Very well.  Proceed to docking bay 3.”  
_

Asajj followed their instructions to the letter, allowing herself to be blindfolded and led to a secure room while the ship switched locations.  She was then moved (still blindfolded) to what she could sense was an interrogation room.  

She didn’t so much as squint when the blindfold was removed.  Two men were giving her hard glares - one dressed like a military commander, while the other was dressed… well, more like a smuggler than anything else.  His ponytail certainly wasn’t doing his professionalism any favors.

“Who are you?” he demanded.  “What do you want?”

“My, my,” she mused, smirking.  “Aren’t we good at repeating things?”

“Just answer the question.”

That was fine; Asajj was close to running out of patience anyway.  She noticed that they’d taken away her blaster, so they were right to be wary, but she needed answers of her own as well.  Plus, they hadn’t discovered her lightsaber when they searched her.

“My name is Asajj Ventress,” she said.  “A long time ago I was an assassin for the Separatist Alliance.  Now I’m a bounty hunter.  As for what I want - I understand that there’s a former Jedi Padawan on board this ship by the name of Ahsoka Tano?”

Instantly, she found the ponytail-guy’s lightsaber in her face.   _A lightsaber.  Interesting._

“How do you know about her?” he demanded.

“We’re old friends.”

“Cut the crap,” he said.  “You’re not getting the bounty on her.”

“That isn’t what I want,” she said, an edge of irritation creeping into her tone.  “Just tell her that I’m here.  I’ll wait quietly while you do.”

The military man and ponytail guy exchanged glances, then the military man left the room.  Ponytail-guy glared at her non-stop in silence, clearly not happy that they were obeying her whims, but he was going to have to live with it.  Asajj would prefer not to, but she would fight her way through this ship if necessary.

It took several minutes, but the man came back.  “She’ll see you,” he said, expressionless.

Asajj inclined her head, and followed him when he gestured for her to stand.

They took a winding path to what must be the medbay, to find Ahsoka laid out on one of the beds, looking exhausted but none the worse for wear.  Asajj nearly winced at the way her face lit up when she saw her, and she forced herself to keep her expression neutral.

“You may leave us,” Ahsoka told the two men.  “She’s no danger to me.”

They did so, but not before ponytail-guy shot her one last glare.  

When they were gone, Asajj was the first to speak.  “Your agony was so loud that I could feel it on the other side of the galaxy.”

Ahsoka shuddered, and for a moment she got that faraway look on her face that was reminiscent of Nar Shaddaa.  Asajj sensed it again - that tremor of horror that had been magnified one hundred times while she was on Coruscant’s underworld.

“I found someone that I thought was dead,” Ahsoka said.  “And then I wished that they had been.”  She reached out and squeezed Asajj’s hand, startling her.  “Thank you for coming.  I think I knew you would.”

“You knew nothing of the sort,” Asajj replied.  But she was glad to be there as well.

* * *

Asajj, against her better judgment, decided to stay with the rebels.  

It didn’t take much convincing from Ahsoka to sway the rebels to accept her; Asajj was quick to prove herself in a fight, especially when she beat their best shooters.  She remained mum about her Force sensitivity, and Ahsoka respected her unspoken wish to keep that quiet.  Quickly, most of the fleet just knew her as a former assassin with an uncanny aim.

The Lothal cell was easily the most interesting group of them all.  Ezra Bridger was annoying, and Kanan was hot-headed, but Sabine Wren and Hera Syndulla were likable enough.  She didn’t mind the company of Zeb that much, either, and she found herself cackling at Chopper’s antics more often than not.

“A droid after my own heart,” she said to Ahsoka.

“You have one of those?” Ahsoka said, feigning confusion.  Asajj punched her in the arm.

Things came to a head, however, when she was assigned to help gather medical supplies with Wren and Zeb.  Bridger tagged along, but made less noise than usual, so Asajj tolerated it.

Asajj had been content to hide her past acquaintance with the Force.  the two inquisitors that showed up threw a wrench in those plans.  It was watching the woman use the force to drag Bridger back that set her off, or maybe it was the way the hulking man threatened Wren - either way, the next thing she knew her lightsaber was out and she was leaping at them.

“Wouldn’t you prefer a real challenge?” she said, some of the old venom creeping back into her voice.

The woman snarled at her, leaping away and twisting sinuously like a snake, but it was almost child’s play to keep up with her.  Asajj recognized that the Emperor purposefully kept his servants weak; if they wanted to capture or kill Ahsoka, then they needed far more power than this.

For the moment, she didn’t bother to be consumed by the fight.  She Force-pushed them both away, got the others to safety, and then (only then) did she really concentrate on her enemies.  

She was startled by what she saw: a ghost of herself (so long ago) and General Grievous, or maybe Savage Oppress.  

Either way, her investment in the rebels became about more than just Ahsoka.

* * *

_“Who are you?”_ the Seventh Sister screamed, the next time they clashed.  

Asajj gave a twisted smile.  “You’re who I used to be.”

* * *

Vader was there.

Vader was there, in that building, just waiting.  And Ahsoka was already planning on meeting him in there.

Asajj was enraged.  “This is why I left!” she shouted, feeling the rage boiling in her veins.  “I knew how this would end.  I knew.”

Ahsoka didn’t yell.  “But you came back anyway.”

“More’s the pity.”  Asajj could see the Seventh Sister approaching out of the corner of her eye, lightsaber at the ready, madness dancing in her eyes.  She and Ahsoka already knew how this was going to go, and she knew how futile it was to try an change the course of events.

“This isn’t about me, or you,” Ahsoka said urgently.  “All of this - everything that’s happening - it’s bigger than us.”

“Still a Jedi.”  Asajj ignited her lightsaber, turning to face Seven.  “You fool.”

Ahsoka laughed - oh yes, she was afraid - and placed a hand on Asajj’s shoulder.  Then she was gone.

With more effort than she could possibly conceive, Asajj raised her lightsaber to meet Seven’s blow.

* * *

Asajj piloted her ship - away from the rebellion, away from the hope - just _away_.  She’d screamed when she felt it, and that scream had all but ripped through Seven with its power.  The inquisitor’s eyes had rolled into the back of her head, and she’d collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.  Not dead, just unmoving.

It was ridiculous, that Asajj’s grief had been strong enough to incapacitate someone.  She supposed that was what love did to you.

So she flew away, as fast as she could, trying to outrun the memories and the crushing pain.  Seven was secured in her cargo hold.  Asajj could see a possible future there - helping someone the way no one had helped her.  It would be difficult.  It would be almost impossible.  It would be _something_.

But right now, the person that she was closest to in the entire galaxy was dead.  To Asajj, that felt a whole lot like nothing.


End file.
